by Xenia Melzer
Casto’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not entirely sure. I was willing—I was so angry. But I wasn’t out of control. I knew what I had to do, how to kill effectively. I did it to protect you, and if need had been, I’d have killed a hundred times more men.”
Renaldo pulled Casto even closer, his voice soothing. “I’m glad you’re thinking like that. You’re an excellent warrior. I’m proud that you’re my pupil, that you share my bed.”
“Even though I’m stubborn and arrogant?”
“Especially then. You know me—I get bored easily.”
They shared an amused grin that betrayed the depths of their bond.
With a sweeping gesture, Renaldo pulled the fur over them. “Let’s get some sleep, my own. The coming days are going to be tiring.”
“As my master wishes.”
“Shh. Your sarcasm is out of place this late at night. Keep it for tomorrow.”
With a light chuckle that matched his age, Casto closed his eyes. Although it would certainly take time until he came to terms with the events of the day, he was happy.
Renaldo pressed a kiss to his forehead, but Casto was already fast asleep.
“WHERE ARE you going so early in the morning?”
From their bed, Renaldo watched Casto getting dressed.
Casto shot him a gloomy look. “I owe Belnor an apology. I’d rather do it now than later.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Casto wrapped a silk belt round his slim waist, caught his blond curls in a tail, and started to leave. Before he reached the front part of the tent, he hesitated. “Just out of curiosity, what would be the worst Belnor could do to me?”
Renaldo suppressed a smile. To anybody else, Casto’s voice would sound cool and detached, and his demeanor would betray nothing of his true feelings, but Renaldo had known him long enough to spot the small signs of insecurity he was trying to hide. “The worst Belnor could do is leave you to me for punishment.”
A relieved grin crossed Casto’s features. “Then I’m at ease.”
“Don’t get too relaxed. I’m known for my brutality.”
Casto narrowed his eyes and blushed slightly. “I can’t say that is turning me off, Barbarian. To be frank, I’m counting on it.”
Suddenly wide-awake and deeply interested, Renaldo sat up, a wolfish smile on his lips. His difficult lover’s eyes lit up in triumph; he even bowed slightly to his master.
“I have to go now.”
“Don’t think I’m gonna let this slip, slave! Once you’re back, brace yourself!”
Casto’s answer was barely audible since he’d already left the tent, but Renaldo’s godlike hearing picked it up. “Is that a promise?”
Amused, Renaldo leaned back in the furs. “You can bet on it, my beautiful little warrior.”
Content with himself and the world, he allowed himself to doze again.
WITH HIS fingertips, Casto grazed the closed flap of Belnor’s tent.
“Who is it?”
The warrior sounded tired. The battle had taken its toll on this seasoned fighter as well.
“It’s me, Casto.”
“Come in!”
Casto entered the tent.
Belnor was sitting on a small table, a meager breakfast of bread and cheese laid out before him. When Belnor made a gesture, the slave who was serving left with his gaze cast downward. “To be frank, I wasn’t expecting you this early.”
Casto lowered his gaze. “I like to resolve such things promptly. Dragging it out only worsens it.”
“You’re a brave man.”
Casto swallowed, and then he knelt down. As Renaldo’s favorite he didn’t have to do that, but he respected Belnor as an experienced fighter, and it was one way to show his respect. “First and foremost, I’m a stupid hothead. I ignored your orders, and for that I apologize.”
For a moment the tent was silent. Contemplatively, Belnor watched the strange young man who’d been like a demon in the flesh the day before, now kneeling in front of him so humbly.
“I assume you didn’t do it because my orders were abhorrent?”
Casto raised his eyes, his gaze terribly intense. It reminded Belnor of a born leader, and all of a sudden, the prostration was no longer a sign of subservience but quite the contrary. Belnor shuddered when he imagined how strong a personality it took to accomplish such a thing.
Casto’s voice, as clear and fearless as always, cut through his musings. “No. I did it because I thought it was the right thing to do. And because I didn’t want to disappoint my lord.”
“You may not believe this, but I understand. You’re young and, let’s face it, a better warrior than I’ll ever be.”
Casto opened his mouth to say something, but Belnor stopped him with his raised hand. “What you did yesterday wasn’t exactly clever, but it was necessary. I’ve been serving the brothers for so long I’ve forgotten what disobedience is.”
“What will be my punishment?”
Belnor smiled. He liked the young man’s straightforwardness. “I’ll leave it to Renaldo. But tell him I want one of the horses you’ve trained as compensation.”
Casto stared at the veteran in disbelief. He hadn’t expected to get off so lightly. “If that’s your wish, I’ll train one especially for you, Belnor.”
“That would be nice. And now go back to your master before he misses you too much.”
Gracefully, Casto got up. His gratefulness was sincere and his voice was full of respect. “I thank you, Master.”
With that, he turned away. When he moved to leave the tent, Belnor stopped him once more. “Casto?”
“Yes?”
“We’re all very glad how happy you’re making Renaldo. Thank you.”
Casto smiled, and his answer surprised himself probably more than the warrior in front of him. “I’m just giving the Barbarian back what he’s bestowed on me.”
Belnor’s eyes widened in surprise, but before he could say anything, Casto had already left.
“I CAN see that Belnor has been truly cruel to you.”
Renaldo’s voice dripped with good-humored banter, which Casto acknowledged with a smile. Although he’d seen and done things during the battle that would haunt him for some time, he felt free and easy.
Which was mostly Renaldo’s doing. “He leaves my punishment to you, Barbarian. But he’s asking for a horse trained by me in exchange.”
“The old crook! He’s known me for too long. Anyway, Canubis wishes to ride to Ki’t in an hour. That means there’s not much time left to start your punishment.”
With the grace of a cat, Casto approached Renaldo. He dropped the silken belt from his hips and the tunic followed with a soft rustling. Casto’s eyes burned with lust, he caressed his naked body temptingly. He hesitated for a moment at the studs in his nipples, still unsure whether he welcomed them or not, then trailed his hands farther down toward the third jewel Renaldo had driven through his flesh.
Hungrily, Renaldo followed every little movement his lover was making. No matter how much they fought, when it came to the bed, they were so perfectly tuned to each other it sometimes spooked him. Casto seemed to always know what Renaldo wanted, and Renaldo was almost better acquainted with Casto’s body and limits than with his own. Right then, words were unnecessary, but Renaldo gave orders in a deep, husky voice nevertheless, to heat up the mood even more.
“Lean over the table.”
Obediently, Casto did as asked. He tilted his head, an inviting smile on his lips. Renaldo stepped behind him, touched the muscular back and lingered on Casto’s butt. He placed the little bottle with oil next to Casto’s head. A whimper of anticipation escaped Casto’s throat, which made Renaldo smile with a hint of cruelty. Casto wouldn’t appreciate what was to come next.
Renaldo spanked the willingly offered flesh with a light slap and entered Casto with two well-oiled fingers at the same time. “You’ve been very cheeky this morning.”
The back in front of him arched, and C
asto’s voice was as raw as it could get. “I know.”
“You’ll pay for that, just as I promised.”
With his fingers, Renaldo grazed Casto’s prostate, and Casto slid his hands helplessly over the wood.
“Please, Barbarian, please!”
“I know. It’s terrible, isn’t it? Being so hot and not able to find relief. Tell me what you want me to do.”
“You know what I want.”
“Yes. But you have to say it.”
“Damn you!”
Renaldo moved his fingers vigorously. He could feel Casto’s inner muscles tense in anticipation. He really enjoyed torturing Casto like that, even though it meant stretching his own self-control to its limit. “What was that? Did I mishear?”
Casto’s back muscles trembled, and he grabbed the table so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Please, Master. Punish me and then take me. I want to feel you.”
Renaldo took a deep breath to keep his cool. Hearing Casto beg like that was more than he could bear, but somehow he managed to hold back. If he lost his control, the whole game would be in vain. By imagining what they would be doing that evening if he could keep his urges in check, he managed to resist Casto’s alluring scent, his pleas, and his appealing body.
“Mmm. An interesting request. Let me think about it—somehow I don’t feel like devouring you at the moment. Later, perhaps.”
A frustrated groan was his reward, and then Casto started to pump his hips. Laughing, Renaldo pressed his hand flat on Casto’s back to keep him from moving while he kept teasing him with his fingers. After a moment’s thought, he allowed Casto a shallow orgasm before taking his fingers out.
Wheezing, Casto got up, his eyes burning with anger. “You cursed bastard!”
“Silence! While you keep talking to me like that, you certainly won’t get anything today.”
Casto was ready to give a sharp retort, but Renaldo was faster. Imperiously he sealed his lips on Casto’s and invaded Casto’s mouth. Slowly, Casto started to relax.
Renaldo drew back. “View it as a game. You’ve been really cheeky, and I promise the punishment for that will be severe. But right now I want you to think only about me, about the things I’m going to do to you.”
“You’re cruel, Barbarian.”
“You only realize this now?”
“There’s no way I can change your mind?”
Renaldo grinned broadly. “Even if you could, it would be too late now. We need to get dressed if we want to make it in time for our trip into Ki’t.”
Casto’s eyes lit up. “You’re really taking me with you?”
“Of course. Needless to say you have to stay close to me all the time.”
A tantalizing smile was the answer. Never one to let a challenge go, Casto was ready for battle. “Don’t worry, Barbarian. I’m not going to leave your side, you’ve seen to that yourself.”
“Why do I get the feeling I should’ve taken you just now?”
Casto’s smile grew even brighter. “Perhaps you should’ve done that. Perhaps not. I’m a great fan of games too, so let’s have one. We’ll see who’s going to be the winner.”
Violently, Renaldo pulled him closer, barely able to keep his flaming urges in check. “Have I told you how much I love it when you challenge me like that?”
“No, never. But I’m taking it as a compliment.”
7. New Beginnings
ALL THAT was left of Ki’t was smoking ruins. Wherever Casto let his gaze wander, there was nothing but destruction. Not a single house was unmarred. In the narrow streets, debris and muck were scattered around, and rats almost as big as cats scampered through the chaos without any signs of fear. The hoarse calls of carrion crows fighting over the corpses were a fitting music to the overall devastation. The crows and rats fed greedily from the countless corpses littering the streets.
Knowing well how merciless the demigods were toward the followers of the Good Mother, many had preferred to kill themselves before the brothers could render their verdict. The whole city was drenched in a terrible stench of decay, fire, and death that made Casto’s stomach turn. Compared to that, the battle from the day before was like a stroll in the sunshine.
Involuntarily he steered Lys closer to one of the persons responsible for the carnage. For the first time since he’d met Renaldo, Casto realized how powerful and merciless he truly was. After the city had fallen to them, without batting an eyelash, Renaldo and Canubis had ordered their men to kill every follower of the Good Mother and to take all the remaining citizens as slaves.
The only consolation was that death came swiftly to those who had dared to oppose the divine brothers, although Casto was not entirely sure whether this was due to Canubis and Renaldo feeling merciful or because they wanted to be done with Ki’t and its citizens as soon as possible. Still, the gurgling sound when the throats were slit made Casto shudder. This was different from the battlefield, where an enemy had at least the chance to defend himself. This was slaughter, plain and simple, and it showed yet another facet of Renaldo—one Casto found difficult to deal with. He understood why Canubis and Renaldo were so cruel: they had to protect their own and make sure anybody who wanted to go against them thought twice about it. Casto was no stranger to ruthlessness, he had been both on the receiving and giving end of it, but the blatant brutality Renaldo and Canubis showed then was new to him, and he wondered if he would be able to get used to it.
During their trip through the ravaged city, Casto also realized how unbelievably lenient his almost almighty master was toward him. When he imagined what Renaldo could have done to him in answer to his stubborn behavior, he felt his stomach turn. Casto still wasn’t afraid of him. He didn’t know where that courage came from, but his instincts told him he was absolutely safe with Renaldo.
THE PERSON still waiting to pay the price for Ki’t’s hubris was Count Markon. The mercenaries had made him a prisoner in the palace, and now he knelt in his own throne room on the bloodied and dirty floor, in front of Canubis and Renaldo.
At their first meeting, Casto had deemed the man a weasel, albeit a very intelligent one who had managed to survive as a ruler for a surprisingly long time in the borderlands of the Eastern Kingdoms. Casto recognized a cunning politician when he saw one, and the man was shrewd. Involuntary admiration mixed with pity when he thought about the hopeless situation the once-lively schemer had gotten into. When he knelt in front of the warriors, the formerly vigorous man just seemed tired. Markon had dusky locks and a plain face in which his dark eyes were too close to be pleasing. He had lost in one day what he had built in over twenty years.
Standing amid the ruins of one’s life’s work seemed more than cruel to Casto. For some time, everybody present remained silent, and the mood in the throne room was hushed. Neither the triumph of the victors nor the desperation of the defeated gained the upper hand. Then Canubis raised his voice, but not in anger, as Casto had anticipated.
The Wolf of War sounded detached, as if the conversation wasn’t about the destiny of an entire kingdom. “Count Markon, you allied yourself with the Good Mother. I think you know what that means.”
The count shrugged, a gesture that conveyed his hopelessness. “Of course I know. I’m not stupid.”
“Why did you do it? You must have known what would happen.”
A bitter smile appeared on the count’s lips. “Believe me when I tell you, Lord Canubis, that if I’d had a choice, it wouldn’t have fallen on the old hag. But my options were limited. After I found out that you would oppose me, my allies fled like rats from a sinking ship. The priestess Rave was the only one who offered help.”
Renaldo furrowed his brows and looked at Markon. “Why did you face us? You could have just kept a low profile.”
“And leave everything I’ve fought for all these years to the Eastern Kings? No, I couldn’t do that. And my plan could have worked. It was risky to stake everything on the turn of one card, but if things had played out differently—”
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br /> “Then you’d be a powerful man now.” Canubis ended the sentence.
Markon nodded glumly. His gaze fell on Casto. It was difficult to tell whether he was angry when he addressed the young man, but he was definitely agitated. “If it hadn’t been for you, you and that black demon! I knew you were different when I met you the first time in the Valley, but I’m still surprised that you’re responsible for my end.”
Casto opened his mouth, but Renaldo beat him to it.
“It has nothing to do with Casto. You’ve fallen prey to your own arrogance. We’re the sons of goddesses. We can’t be defeated.”
“That has still to be proven, as you well know.”
Canubis raised his hand. “Enough! These things are in the distant future. You, on the other hand, are surprisingly relaxed for somebody who has to face the Eastern Kings very soon.”
The count laughed. For the first time since the confrontation started, he sounded like his old, arrogant self again. “That’s not going to happen. Although I hoped to get the better of you, I still prepared for the worst. The kings will never get their hands on me.”
Canubis’s amber eyes lit up knowingly. He didn’t seem surprised at all. “What did you take?”
“Balnar. It takes effect a little slowly, but it’s indolent, and the corpse isn’t too terrible to look at. Another upside is the anaesthetizing effect, something I fancy quite a lot. I wanted to talk to you one last time, but I really can do without the torture.”
Casto gasped. The count was talking so dispassionately, as if it were not his own destiny he was discussing but that of a stranger. He was an enemy who had threatened Renaldo, and that alone was reason enough for Casto to kill him on the spot, but he couldn’t help admiring the dignity with which Markon had shaped the last moments of his life.
Casto was obviously not the only one impressed by the man’s verve. Canubis got up from the throne, stepped toward Markon, and helped him up. “I promise you an honorable funeral. You’ve been a worthy opponent. I respect that.”